Scars

Scar: a mark left permanently on the body. Often caused by a burn, wound, or sore that did not completely heal leaving fibrous tissue to replace normal skin.

Do you have scars on your body? Have you ever taken time to count them? I don't think I have many really. I have the scar at the base of my neck where my thyroid gland was removed. I have a scar across my abdomen where my gallbladder was removed. I have a scar across my lower belly where I had a hysterectomy. I have scars on my right leg where the steel pins were inserted. I have scars from burns when I was cooking, scars from having my babies (service stripes of motherhood) and then I have various other small scars from cuts throughout my life. (I’ve always been a bit of a klutz.) And then there are my cancer scars.

I have the typical mastectomy scars,  the two four/five inch incisions on my chest. Then there are the two smaller ones under each arm from the lymph node removals and the drainage tube scars. I try not to think too much about those scars but it's hard to ignore them. I see them every day when I shower or get dressed. They are always there like “silent loud speakers."

Some women say they see their cancer scars as badges of honor. They “wear” them proudly. Their scars represent how much they’ve been through, how hard they’ve “fought." I guess I feel like that too, to some extent. But then again, I’m not so sure. My scars are just there. I don’t feel honored by them. I’m certainly not proud of them. I try my best not to let others see them, but sometimes that can't be helped. This weekend, two of my daughters saw them...not because they wanted to, heaven forbid! Laura had to see them when I went for my post op appointment and the doctor took off the steri-strips and other dressings. I apologized to her afterwards when we were in the car driving home. I know it must have been devastating for her to go through that experience. Then yesterday, Jamie, my youngest daughter had to see them. I needed help changing my bandages and the only way that could be done was to remove my camisole and allow her access to them. Immediately non-stop tears began to flow down my cheeks as she tenderly removed the bandages and replaced them with dry, clean ones. I told her how sorry I was that she had to see my scars. I know how hideous they are and how it must have impacted her to view them. I even try to hide my scars from my husband, because yes, I am more self-conscious now. I have a strange relationship with my scars. Sometimes I choose to see them. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes they bother me. Sometime they don’t. I’d much rather they weren’t there. It doesn’t matter anyway. They’re not going anywhere. They are here to stay.

Many breast cancer survivors proudly pose topless, or even in the nude. (You'll never catch me doing that!) They claim to be making a statement of one kind or another. Posing for such pictures or causes takes guts. Showing your scarred body publicly cannot be easy. Kudos to them. I applaud them. I do. They certainly are inspiring to many, including me. But guess what? I am even more inspired by the women (and men) who share about their inner scars; the ones they can’t see, the ones no one sees.

When you think about it, those inner, invisible scars are the ones that often hurt the most. I have deep inner cancer scars that I have yet to share about. In some ways these are the ones that feel most personal, cause the most pain, and are hardest to talk about. These are the scars that take the longest to heal, and perhaps never completely do.

Inner scars, the ones carved deep into your heart and soul...those are the ones caused by verbal abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, and hurtful words. Those scars aren't visible to the eye but never the less, they are there. They are very real. Any physical scars you've received in your life have probably healed much more quickly and much more fully than the ones that were seared into your memory forever. We all have scars of some sort. Some are visible and explainable. And some are not.

I know that over time, my scars will become lighter in intensity. The deep red gouges will fade to a lighter shade of pink. They will be less obvious but will never be invisible. They will be a constant reminder of much pain and anguish. And like the scars, the pain and anguish will diminish over time. Right now, the wounds and the pain are fresh and raw. They are constant reminders of the recent trauma my body has been through. But do you know I'm not as concerned about the physical scars as I am about the mental scarring that has taken place.

Satan screams at me that I'm not good enough anymore. That I am damaged goods. That I am ugly. That my husband will no longer find me attractive. He whispers in my ear that something I did caused me to have cancer. Maybe it was the way I was eating, maybe it was something else...he says it was my fault. I can feel him slinking in the corner, waiting and watching for me to fall into depression...to turn the anger in on myself...to cry over what was and now what will never be again. He finds joy in my pain. My faith in God allows me to see and know the way he works and with that knowledge, I am able to combat those lies with truth.

God tells me that yes, I have been through a traumatic ordeal. Yes, my body is red and tender and painful but it will heal in time. He reminds me that though my body is no longer in its original state, that it is still beautiful to Him. He doesn't look upon my body. He looks upon my heart. The scars that are topical don't penetrate His deep abiding love for me and they never will. They don't detract from my spirit. So even though I have a few more scars today than I did yesterday, I'm still okay.  The main thing is that even when I don't feel loveable, He loves me anyway and I'll hold onto that. After all, scars are souvenirs you never lose.

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Stop it!

I've been through a gamut of emotions since receiving my Breast Cancer diagnosis. I've been sad, I've been angry, I've been depressed. I've been confused, I've been bewildered, I've been numb. I'm sure if I Googled "range of emotions related to Breast Cancer diagnosis" I'd receive a long list of psychological reports and studies that have been created but, I don't have to do that. I've lived through them over the past weeks. Yesterday, I dealt with anger and defeat. Today, I am adopting determination! What, you don't think determination is an emotion? Maybe not. Perhaps determination is just anger with a goal in mind, in any event, I'm headed in that direction.

Determination runs in my family. My mother always said I was very determined. If there were cookies in the jar and I wanted one, even if I'd been told not to touch them, I would figure out a way to reach that jar and grab a cookie. As a child, if you told me I couldn't do something, I went about proving that I could. As an adult, if I was told I couldn't do something, I took on the challenge and found a way to prove the naysayers wrong. I guess you could say the characteristics of determination have been part of my character from the very beginning. I know my strengths and weaknesses. I know how to set goals and achieve them.

I see determination in my children, too. When Laura, my middle daughter, was a child, she portrayed her determination in what Dr. James Dobson liked to call a "strong willed child." From the time she was an infant, we knew she was different. Some said she had a big temper and used it to get what she wanted, but I knew she was just determined. She knew exactly what she wanted and she was going to find a way to get it. We used to laugh when she'd kick and scream and cry in frustration at not being able to do what she wanted to do. But her determination has taken her through challenges in life and she's turned out just fine.

This morning, I watched my granddaughter, Heather, as she tried to get the child lock off of my kitchen cabinet door. She shook it and pulled on it, trying her best to figure out a way to make it let go. I could see the determination in her face as her little lip was pulled back and held tight by tiny baby teeth.  Laura looked down at her and said "she's determined to get that thing off!" I smiled knowing that determination indeed has passed from one generation to another. Determination isn't a bad character trait to have, is it?

Like a horse with blinders on, determination has caused me to see the finish line. I see myself headed toward the gate. Today, I'm going to "pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again!" I am determined to get through this Cancer journey and do it well.

My life has suddenly gone from black and white to hi-res color. Instead of focusing on the entire journey ahead, I've decided to live in the moment. A dear friend told me recently that wherever I am, that's where I'll be. She said I need to take a look at my feet and realize that at that very moment in time, I am in that place and nothing but that time and place matter. I have never thought of living life that way before. I've always been a long range planner, a goal setter, a mover and a shaker. Can I learn to live in the moment? I think I can.

As I look down at my feet right now, I see that I am in my office. My feet are firmly planted in the lush carpet of my home. Underneath the carpet is a solid foundation of cement, the slab of my home. Underneath the slab is the beautiful grass covered earth that God created and underneath all of that, is the solid rock of Jesus Christ. He is the only foundation that is unmoveable and unshakeable. No amount of determination can ever change the fact that He holds me firmly in the palm of His mighty hands.

The dog days are over! It's time to move full steam ahead. Determination is going to carry me forward, over, around, under, and through the next stage of my journey. Cancer you may think you've won. You may think you're going to run rampant through my body but I say no! I am going to fight you with everything that is within me. You have no idea what kind of fight I'm going to give you! Radiation, bring it on. Hormone therapy...got that. And if, and when, I'm told I have to have Chemo, well...I'll push through it too.

We are a family of fighters. We are determined. We find a way. I'm not going down without a fight and I'm not going to allow myself to feel defeated again.


****Please watch this hilarious video. It will give you a glimpse into what I'm telling myself as I move on. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ow0lr63y4Mw

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

"I press on toward the goal to win the [supreme and heavenly] prize to which God in Christ Jesus is calling us upward." Philippians 3:14

^"But the firm foundation of (laid by) God stands, sure and unshaken, bearing this seal (inscription): The Lord knows those who are His, and, Let everyone who names [himself by] the name of the Lord give up all iniquity and stand aloof from it." 2 Timothy 2:19

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9-10

Post operative report

Right before Christmas, I was watching the movie, the Family Stone with one of my daughters. We've seen it dozens of times, but this time was different. In the movie, there's a scene were Diane Keaton is lying on her bed with her shirt unbuttoned. She has nothing underneath and as the camera zooms in, you can see an obvious mastectomy scar. Diane takes her husband's hand and slowly moves it toward her chest. With tear filled eyes, she longs to feel his touch again. It's always a very surreal but tender moment in the movie. I've seen that scene many times before but this time, it was almost as if I heard a small voice behind me saying "that's going to be you." Little did I know that indeed, not more than 6 months later, I was the one looking at my scars...

It's been one week and one day since my surgery. Today I went in for my post operative report. I've been anxious about going for this visit because I knew I'd receive the results of my surgical pathology report. The results showed that I have metastatic carcinoma in my sentinel lymph node. While I'm thankful there was no cancer found in the other 5 nodes she biopsied, I was devastated to find out that my cancer is spreading. I guess you'd say I got slapped in the face with reality today. Even after having both breasts removed, I haven't really accepted that I have cancer. Three little words...you have cancer. They are so devastating and change your life in a heartbeat. 

My next step is to see the Oncologist, which will happen in about 2-3 weeks. We are waiting on results from the Oncotype test. That test will reveal how fast the cancer might spread and what types of treatment it will respond to best. I know I will have radiation and need to take Tamoxifen for the next 10 years but I'm not sure about chemotherapy yet. The test results will give us that information. 

As Laura drove me from the doctor's office to pickup my surgical camisoles, all I could think was about how quickly the year is flying by. We're almost at the end of July and soon it will be August. Then Christmas will be right around the corner. As I thought of Christmas, my mind journeyed back to the movie. Diane Keaton has passed away by the time the family celebrates their next Christmas. Will that be what happens to me too? I'm not ready to read how the story of my life ends yet. I'm just feeling very numb right now and trying to process it all. 

Thankful Thursday

It's Thankful Thursday again and time for me to hone in on all the things I've been grateful for this week:

1. My "pinky" sister (a breast cancer survivor), Karen Fedder, came to visit and we forged a great new friendship!

2. I received a pair of "Knitted Knockers." (they are handmade breast implants donated by volunteers who love to knit and want to do something to help breast cancer patients)

3. God has been blessing me through nature:
I was able to watch a mother house wren teach her babies to fly!
I saw several hummingbirds this week.
I watched a young doe as she pranced through my front yard looking for something good to eat.

4. I received a breast casting kit from the "Keep a Breast Foundation" (although I can't use it now, perhaps I can find someone to donate it to in the future)

5. The plumber came to repair our guest bathroom toilet and didn't charge us a thing!

6. Hubby has stepped up and donned his SUPERMAN cape! He's not only pitched in to do the housework, he's become my night in shining armor helping to wash my hair, change my dressings, tuck me into bed, and tell me that I am beautiful every day. *(I'll expound on this at the end of this post so please, please read it!)

7. God reminded me that He wants to give me good and perfect gifts! He is the one who prompts friends to reach out and encourage me. I've had several friends contact me this week through emails, cards, calls, and gifts! I received 3 floral arrangements - one from my daughter, one from a sweet friend from the past, and one from my sister, Sam. I received a lovely edible arrangement, teddy bear, and balloon from an old friend. I received a beautiful journal from my dear friend Wendy Reising.

*****You know you've got a godly husband when he sees the beauty on the inside of you instead of just focusing on the outside appearance. My husband, Phil, can look at me with no makeup on while I'm wearing my pajamas, with bandages all over my chest, drainage hoses sticking out from the top of my shirt, blood filled drainage bulbs dangling in front of me, and still call my name, telling me to look him in the eyes...when I do, he says "do you know you're beautiful?" I lower my head in shame and shake my head no. He comes to stand in front of me and takes my face in both his hands and tells me again to look at him. Our eyes lock and through the tears, I see his sweet face. He is genuine in his love for me. He means every word he's said from the bottom of his heart. Even though I don't feel full of beauty, when I see myself through his eyes, I know I am. I am so blessed and so thankful that God has chosen this man to be by my side forever. I know I can get through anything as long as he is there to encourage, love, and support me. And for that I am very thankful. I'm not only thankful on Thursdays, but thankful every single day of my life.

Please know that God is so good to me and even when things don't seem to be going well, I know that He is orchestrating events for His perfect plan for my life. I pray you will be encouraged today as you struggle with your own journey whatever it may be...know that we can't always trust in our feelings...we have to trust in what we KNOW to be true. God loves us because we are His beautiful children. He has created us for His pleasure. We are to love and serve Him with all our being. Though you can't see Him and you might not be able to always feel His presence, He is with you. He's promised never to leave or forsake us! He loves us with an everlasting love..."The Lord appeared from of old to me [Israel], saying, Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore with loving-kindness have I drawn you and continued My faithfulness to you." Jeremiah 31:3

I love suffering, said nobody...EVER!

Suffering. Can it be considered a gift from God? Don't all of our gifts come from God and if so, why wouldn't we consider suffering any less of a gift than the gift of faith? I love everything in my life that comes from God, and if I really and truly mean that statement, I have to say, I love my sufferings.

This morning, I was thinking back over my life and how God has used painful physical ailments to teach me valuable lessons and grow my faith. In order for you to understand, I'll have to take you back into my past and share a little of my journey with you.

In 1970, as I had just completed the eighth grade in high school, I began to get extremely ill. Every morning, my stomach would do somersaults and I would experience extreme nausea  and pain. My mother took me to doctor after doctor trying to find the root of the problem. One doctor said I had hepatitis, another said I had an ulcer. Days and months passed as I continued to get worse. At her wits end, my mother took me to see a gastroenterologist, Dr. Girardeau, who told her to take me out to lunch and let me eat the greasiest thing on the menu and then bring me back for testing. I'm sure she thought it odd medical advice, I know I sure did. After a meal of greasy fried chicken, we headed back to the doctor and he did an ultrasound of my belly. The test showed exactly what the doctor suspected, gallstones. No wonder the other doctors couldn't find out what was wrong with me, usually teenagers don't suffer from gallstones! In early 1971, Surgery was scheduled and before surgery began, my gallbladder ruptured and gangrene was flowing through my body. This was a very dangerous situation and I was very close to death, but God wasn't quite ready for me to come home just yet. Dr. Girardeau worked quickly. After a rough physical struggle, I made it through surgery and recovery. I spent months at home getting stronger and even spent the first half of my ninth grade year being home schooled. During that time of serious illness, my walk with Christ was strengthened as I learned to rely on him for not only my physical comfort and well being, but even more importantly, for my spiritual health and well being. I was so physically weak that I spent many days in bed...all I could do was cry out to God for healing.

In 1991, I was involved in a serious motor vehicle accident. My car was totaled and my right leg was crushed below the knee. I was told in the hospital emergency room that my leg was going to have to be amputated and that I'd never walk again, but my family began to pray. On call that day was the top orthopedic surgeon in Gainesville's Northeast Georgia Medical Center, Dr. Bruce McAllister. God had strategically placed him there at the exact time I needed him. Dr. McAllister asked me if I wanted to walk again and I emphatically told him yes. He told me that he would do everything he could to help me realize that dream and he did. After a year and a half in a wheelchair with an external fixator on my leg with long steel pins holding my tibia and fibula together; I spent hour upon hour seeking God's face. I did everything the doctor told me to do and instead of losing my leg, God saved it. I graduated from the wheelchair to a year on crutches and finally was able to walk again. I was not about to give up the fight. God had promised me that I would walk again and I did. He allowed the motor vehicle accident to slow me down and gain my attention. I had been so self sufficient before my injury. God used that time to teach me about His character, His faithfulness, and His love.

Now it's 2014 and I find myself facing another health challenge. I am suffering from Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, stage 2 Breast Cancer. Once again, God is using the gift of suffering to draw me closer to Him. Sometimes I ask Him what else I need to learn...haven't I suffered enough? He lovingly and patiently waits for me to realize that my suffering is nothing compared to what He did for me on the cross. My suffering is nothing compared to martyrs all over the world who have been tortured for their faith. My suffering is but a brief and momentary affliction that He's allowed into my life to teach me more about His love for me.

It's hard to understand how suffering, faith, and love go hand in hand isn't it? It's normal to ask why a loving and caring God would allow one of His children to experience so much pain and agony. But in the asking, we have to remember that God's ways are not our ways. His ways are so much higher than ours. He has an ultimate goal in mind when He allows suffering into our lives. I don't know what the goal is yet, but whatever it is, I want it. For I know that His gift will be His best for me. If it means that I have to suffer for a while, then I will gladly suffer. And while suffering is never easy, it brings about great faith. God's love is evident in my life because through His gift of suffering, I find myself relying on Him to daily increase my faith. I know He has a reason and His reason is for my good.It's not easy to suffer, in fact, it's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do but God hasn't left me abandoned to fight this fight alone. I feel His presence daily surrounding me and guiding me.

Don't you just love to give gifts? We search for any occasion to go shopping and buy the perfect gift for those we love. Most gifts are exciting and unexpected. Part of the gift of giving blesses the receiver and part of it blesses the gift giver. For the receiver, the fun is opening up the gift and seeing what the giver has chosen. For the giver, it's fun to watch the face of the receiver as they anticipate opening the gift. But the gift of suffering...it's not as pleasant to accept. If we truly love all the wonderful gifts that God has chosen specifically for us then how can we refuse to accept His gift of suffering when He presents it for our benefit? Can we understand that He has taken the time to choose just the perfect type of suffering that He knows will bring about the goal He's specifically chosen for us? Sure it would be easy to push away the gift of suffering and refuse to accept it. In fact, I'm sure that would have been what I would have first chosen to do had I not experienced God's blessings through suffering in the past. But I can't refuse a gift from my loving Heavenly Father...one He's picked out with me in mind. Only He knows why this specific gift of Cancer was chosen for me. Only He knows what benefits it will yield in my life. I just have to wait for the gift to completely unfold in the days ahead and as the wrapping and ribbon are stripped away, maybe I'll come to understand why I was picked to be the recipient of such a carefully thought out gift.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

"And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace [Who imparts all blessing and favor], Who has called you to His [own] eternal glory in Christ Jesus, will Himself complete and make you what you ought to be, establish and ground you securely, and strengthen, and settle you." 1 Peter 5:10


"And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." 2 Corinthians 12:9

"Many [are] the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all." Psalm 34:19

"O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable [are] his judgments, and his ways past finding out!" Romans 11:33

Tell all Tuesday

 Most of my blog posts have been on the inspirational side, but today I've decided to give you a glimpse into what my life is really like on a day to day basis.

Let me start with yesterday. I woke up at 5:30 in the morning which was shortly after my husband left for work. More than likely I subconsciously heard him close the front door and that is what startled me enough to wake me from a sound sleep. After getting my eyes adjusted to the early morning light that had just begun to peak into my windows; I reached toward the nightstand to retrieve my glasses. As soon as I reached over to get them I felt pain. It's easy to forget when you're sleeping that you've just had major surgery. After donning my glasses, I reach for my cell phone so that I could open up my Bible App and read the Bible. Since surgery, I’ve found it's a lot easier to hold my cell phone, which only weighs a few ounces, as opposed to my Bible which weighs a couple of pounds. I spend about an hour having my quiet time and devotion before getting up and starting the day.

It's quite a challenge to get out of bed. My husband has made a literal mountain of pillows that has helped me sleep in an upright position and be comfortable. In order to get out of the bed, I have to use my leg muscles to pull myself over to the edge of the bed and use my abdominal muscles to lift myself up. Since having all of the muscles removed from my chest and lymph nodes removed from underneath both arms, I'm unable to use my upper body without extreme pain. As I swing my legs over the side of the bed and raise myself into a sitting position, I have to sit there for a few minutes and allow my blood pressure to adjust so that I don't get swimmy headed.

I feel the weight of the drainage bulbs dangling from my chest. I feel the pulling and tugging of the drainage tubes where they are inserted under my armpits and held in place with stitches. Every movement I make seems to tug on these tubes. I slide off the bed and slowly try to stand erect. My chest wall feels strained and hollow. It is an effort to stand up straight. I manage to pad slowly into the bathroom where I go through the process of draining out the Jackson Perkins drainage bulbs. Thankfully I only have two of these drainage bulbs, one on each side of my chest. Some women have four or more after having their breasts removed. The process of draining the bulbs is slow and tedious. Each bulb has to be uncapped and then allowed to expand before the contents can be expelled. The fluid in each bulb is a bright orangey red and consists of blood, blood clots, and lymphatic fluid. There are markings on each bulb which indicate the number of cc’s. I am to record the amount of fluid extracted three times a day.

After emptying the bulbs next comes the chore of milking the bulbs. This requires me to pinch the drainage tube tightly against my body with one hand while using the other hand to slowly pull along the line forcing any leftover contents into the bulb for emptying. After the bulbs have been emptied and the contents recorded, I then proceed to get dressed. My chest is so sensitive I can barely stand anything to touch it and so I choose very large loose cotton button up shirts. Since I am unable to raise my arms over my head, button up shirts provide easier access for dressing.

By the time I am dressed, I am already feeling exhausted. I make myself go into the kitchen to try to find something to eat. I pull open the fridge door and grab a Greek yogurt. Taking it with me to my office, I sit down to write my blog. My arms hurt too badly to reach forward and touch the keys on my laptop so I choose to use a voice to text program called Dragon dramatically speaking. This program allows me to don a headset with a built-in microphone and speak what ever I want to say. The program does the typing for me. I enjoy writing in my blog every day. It not only helps me process my feelings but helps me feel a part of the real world. Being cooped up in the house all day without ever seeing a soul until my husband comes home from work is difficult. I like to be around people and feel their energy.

I sit at the computer for several hours writing my blog, answering e-mails, surfing the web. Before I know it it's time for lunch. I work my way back into the kitchen and begin to make a sandwich. As soon as I have it prepared, my cell phone rings. It's one of my daughters checking in for the day. My daughter Jamie calls me first thing every morning on her way to work. She likes to chat while she drives. She talks about her relationship with her new boyfriend or about her new job. I love hearing the excitement in her voice and this routine has become something I expect daily. She also calls me every day on her lunch break.

As soon as I hang up the phone with Jamie, my daughter Erin is calling in. Erin calls me several times a day too. She calls to tell me how things are going with the kids or ask me a random cooking question. She doesn't think I know that she is calling to check up on me and make sure I'm okay, but I do. I'm so thankful that Jamie and Erin make time to touch base with me every day.

I lift the plate and carry my lunch over to the dining room table. I'm surprised at the weight of the plate with the food on it. It seems so heavy and I struggle with it. I walk back to get a glass of water, again I'm astounded by the weight of the glass with the water in it. I feel like such a weakling! This surgery has taken a lot out of me physically. I'm just beginning to realize just how much it has affected me.

After cleaning off the table, I sit down in my recliner to catch up on a few recorded television programs. I realize as I sit down that I am in a lot of pain. Could just those little movements have caused me to hurt this much? I reach for a pain pill. Within 30 min. I find myself nodding off in front of the television. I must have fallen into a very deep sleep because when I wake up it's an hour later and I see that the UPS driver has left a package on the table by the front door. I feel embarrassed because I know that he was able to look through the sidelights beside the door and see me asleep in the recliner. I think to myself. I need to do something to cover those sidelights.

I walk to the front door and retrieve the package. It is extremely heavy. I look at the wording on the outside of the package and it says "keep a breast foundation.org". Now I realize this is the breast casting kit I had ordered several weeks ago and expected to receive before my surgery. It's a little too late and that makes me sad. It would have been so nice to have received this in time to make a breast cast before my mastectomies. I take the kit and put it away hoping I'll find someone to give it to in the future.

It's after four o'clock now and I decide to do some reading. I pick up several books on breast cancer and find one that I want to read. The book I choose has helpful information on getting through chemotherapy and radiation. As I read it I become overwhelmed and have to put it down. My brain feels like it is in major overload mode.

I just realized I did not empty and drain the bulbs at lunch time! I hurry into the bathroom and go through that whole process again. It is disgusting seeing clots of my own blood collected in these clear drainage bulbs. I am thankful I do not have a very weak stomach otherwise I would be unable to do this by myself.

I hear the back door opening and hubby coming in from work. He shouts in an energetic "hey honey, I'm home"! As he comes in the door he hands me the mail. This is the highlight of my day. Among several bills are a handful of greeting cards all addressed to me. I feel so special and so loved. Many of my friends have taken time to write me a note of encouragement. I sit down and savor each one by reading it over and over.

Hubby goes to get a shower and I tried to figure out what I'm going to make for supper. I'm not strong enough to lift the heavy cookware. I don't have anything frozen that I can just pop into the microwave or the crockpot. How I wish we had friends here that would be willing to help make a few meals. The easiest thing I can fix is hot dogs. I am sad because I don't want to serve my husband hot dogs after he's worked a long hard day. I don't have strength to cook anything else. He doesn't complain and I'm thankful.

After dinner we sit down to watch the news. I can't get comfortable in the recliner and ask him if he can help adjust my pillows. He gets up and comes over to help me. The drainage tubes are really pulling against my skin. I'm wondering if they have gotten infected. I asked him if he will look at them later and change the bandages. He says he
will.

We sit and watch “The Bachelor” together. I think it's funny that my husband has gotten so much enjoyment from the program. We make comments and laugh. It's good to have someone to talk with after having had such a lonely day.

Soon the show is over and it's time to make hubby's lunch for tomorrow. I try to bend over and pick up his lunch box but it hurts too much. He has to hand it to me. After getting his lunch prepared it's time to go to bed. Hubby readjusts the mountain of pillows. I look at the pillows and am thankful that we have so many! Without them there is no way I could get comfortable enough to sleep.

I ask hubby if he can help me wash my hair before bed. He walks into the bathroom and adjust the water temperature. As I lean over the shower he pulls the showerhead down and begins to wet my hair and the front of my nightgown and my feet! I began shouting at him that he's getting me all wet. He apologizes and tries a little harder. Finally he finishes and hands me a towel to dry off with. The entire front of my gown is soaking wet. I do the best I can to dry it off.

 

It's time to go through the process of emptying the drainage bulbs again and milking the tubes. I'm thankful that hubby helps me this time. Slowly he helps me remove my nightgown and take down the camisole top. He inspects the bandages and removes the ones that need to be replaced. Carefully he tapes new gauze over my incisions. As he pulls off the old tape, I have to remind him to be gentle. My skin is super sensitive.

After we're done he helps me put on my nightgown again and make sure the bulbs are pinned safely out of the way. He waits patiently beside me as I use my legs to inch my way slowly onto the bed and up to the mountain of pillows. I am exhausted after I finally get situated. He turns out the light and crawls into bed. I lay there with tears running down my face. He tells me not to worry that things will get better soon. All I can think is this journey has just begun. I know when I go for my post op visit on Friday, I'll get information on the pathology findings from the lymph node removal. I'll probably find out that I'm to have chemo or radiation along with hormone therapy. There are many unknowns coming down the road. Hubby tells me to take one day at a time and I'm trying but it's not easy....

Time to put on my big girl panties

“Its time to put on your big girl panties!” Where did that come from??? That's what I heard in my mind at the same time the radiologist was telling me that I had Breast Cancer. Time to grow up, move on and be an adult. But the little girl inside me was screaming, No! I don’t want to.” I argued with the little girl inside and said “Sometimes you don’t want to, but you have to. Because you’re a big girl.” Putting on your Big Girl Panties means many times you have to do something hard, even when you don't want to, even when you don't FEEL like it.

Big girl panties mean more than just panties. They mean you are an adult. You have to be responsible even when its hard. You have to pay your bills on time. Obey the rules. Be on time. Do your best. And why do you have to do your best? Because you wear the big girl panties!

When you have on your big girl panties, you learn to stand up for yourself. You can say yes or you can say no. It's your choice...because you’re a big girl. Wear the panties.

When you wear your big girl panties, you are fierce! You put your best foot forward, put on your war paint and face the day with gusto. You are powerful! You can take the day and make it yours. You can say bring it on and mean it.

Women look good in big girl panties and no, they don't look like your grannies panties! What do they look like? Well, it depends on your own personal pair of big girl panties! Yours are probably very different than mine. Yours may be a beautiful, frilly, lacy, pair of sexy black lingerie. Yours may even be a thong but mine definitely are not! Whatever they look like, they are your own private pair of big girl panties. No one need ever see them.

But sometimes it's hard to put on the big girl panties. Especially when you're in pain. When you just feel like you want to curl up in bed and stay there forever. You want to take the big girl panties and chuck them across the room. You don't want to even look at them much less remember you have them.

Do all women own a pair of big girl panties? And if so, how did we get them? I don't remember where mine came from or when I first learned to use them. Maybe they were nestled snugly in the items my mother brought home from the hospital, perhaps they were hidden among bibs, tshirts, and diapers. Perhaps they were packaged in a little box with the instructions "do not open until crisis occurs" imprinted ever so boldly on a hanging tag. Wherever they came from, I wish I could send them back.

I've had on my big girl panties for the past few days. They've helped me get past the reality of Cancer but today, they are wadded up in the corner of my bedroom lying on the floor. I don't want to be an adult today. I don't want to be responsible today. I don't want to suck it up and move on.

Today I think I'm going to go commando! Today I'm going to throw caution to the wind. I'm going to let it all hang out. I'm going to be free. I'm not going to live up to anyone's expectations. I'm not going to "do the right thing." I'm just going to crawl back into bed, move my drainage tubes aside and slide onto my mountain of pillows. I'm going to pull the covers up over my head, turn out the light and close my eyes.

My big girl panties will still be crumpled up against the wall when I decide to get up. Maybe I'll pick them up and gingerly fold them and maybe I won't. Whatever I decide to do, it will be my decision. And if you see my big girl panties run up on a flagpole for everyone to see, don't be surprised. Perhaps you'll salute them in my honor. Perhaps you'll smile at them and think about your own big girl panties and when you're going to step into them next.

Big girl panties. We all step into them one leg at a time whenever we need to take on a challenge that requires the strength that God gives especially to women. In fact, speaking of God, I think He's the one that gave me my first pair of big girl panties. They were invisible to the eyes of others but I could see them. I could see they were sewn with hands of love and hemmed with seams of trust. They had bands of elastic forged from His strength. Those big girl panties had one size fits all imprinted on the inside band. On the tag was embroidered the following: "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”... 2 Cor. 12:9 I know I still have them somewhere. Oh wait, I think I see something sticking out from under the bed...

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